


The Stone Dragon's Egg

by thirdchildfromthesun



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4489035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirdchildfromthesun/pseuds/thirdchildfromthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spell-spinner and shopkeeper Mink is living a peaceful, though sometimes very busy, life before Clear, a faun from the wild and untamed North, shows up in his shop one night with a dangerous request and an even more potentially dangerous item in his possession. A dragon's egg - possibly the last in all of Mido and to Mink, he makes the desperate request: to save the baby dragon inside. Unable to turn Clear away, Mink takes on this request but things are never that simple and Mink quickly finds himself embroiled in something much, much bigger</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stone Dragon's Egg

It had been a long day. 

There had been a recent outbreak of a nasty stomach virus that had spread quickly around an elementary school nearby which had many the frantic parents stopping by his shop to either purchase some potions and powered spells to help those already sick or some to prevent those who hadn’t gotten sick from getting it. 

A few miles from the town were several farms, many of which were having problems with a rather stubborn insect infestation so there had been more than a handful of customers who had shown up wanting some glyph, spell or potion to ward the bugs off and keep them away. 

And if that wasn’t enough, he had had a startling influx of magic folk pouring through his door the entire day, seeking some thing or another. It had been the usual bunch though - witches, warlocks, elementals and Kins; nothing exceptional but startling nonetheless. He wasn’t exactly hurting for business but it was rare that he got so many magic folk in his shop in one day. Most tended to be drifters – each keeping to their own so seeing a great deal of them all in one place was a bit startlingly. 

That on top of the usual folk who crowded his shop, looking for some potion to help with damp lungs or magic burns or a glyphs for luck, hope, desire or any other kind of item that Mink sold in his shop just added to the chaos of an already chaotic day. 

It wasn’t so much that he minded but usually he liked either the day to be filled with all humans or all magic folk - dealing with both was an immense hassle as both had specific ways that they had to be dealt with. You can’t go using the same manners that you use with humans as you do with magic folk or vice versa. That’s just asking for trouble and Mink had come very close to slipping up more than once. Thankfully, his rather large size and his demeanor deterred a lot of the folks - both magic and human - from causing too much trouble but the constant interaction, bantering, explaining what this did or how to do this had left him incredibly drained. 

Thankfully, as the day waned, the influx of customers had trickled off and all but stopped as the clock ticked to seven in the evening. Desperately needing a break, Mink had swiftly moved to the back of the shop and there he currently stood, leaning his large body against the counter with his arms crossed over his broad chest. Sighing into the quiet, Mink glanced at the ticking clock and gave some serious consideration to closing up early. It was still an hour before he officially closed but he was exhausted from running around all day and his stock was pitifully low - he had more than enough supplies in the back and in his apartment above the shop but he would need time to crush the spells into dust, to breathe life into glyphs, to formulate dozens of potions and a large variety of other things he needed to do before he could open up the next morning. 

Sighing again, he brushed a lock of brown hair out of his face. The more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that even if he were to close an hour early and even if he were to get up earlier than usual the next morning, he probably still wouldn’t have enough time to completely re-stock his shop or at least, be at a point where he felt comfortable opening his doors. He had the supplies he needed but a lot of the spells, glyphs and potions that he needed to have back on his shelves took time to create. 

Tapping a long finger on top of the counter, he quickly put a list together in his head of what he would most likely need to have shelved as quickly as possible. Difficult and more intricate spells, glyphs and potions meant for casting or anything of that sort could wait but medicinal - those meant to help with breathing, eating, moving, living needed to be made as soon as possible. Everything else could wait but even then, he wasn’t sure if he would have enough time. 

The more he thought it, he became more and more certain that his only option was to shut his doors until the day after tomorrow. He hated to do it but that would give him enough time to replenish his stock of at least essential items. If anyone came by with an emergency, he could probably make something sufficient quickly but other than that, it did not look as though he could confidentially open his doors the next morning. 

He didn’t want to but it wasn’t like he had much choice. Pushing out a heavy breath through his nose, Mink pushed away from the counter and started to move towards the oven to put the kettle on when a sudden chiming alerted him to someone entering the shop.

“Hello?” he heard a soft voice calling from the shop, “Please! Is anyone here?”

The voice sounded panicked and the spike of annoyance that had shot through his stomach at another customer appearing immediately vanished. Worrying that another child had gotten sick or something had happened at one of the farms, Mink hurried out from the back. 

What, or rather who, awaited him there stopped him in his tracks the moment he set eyes on him. 

Standing next to the register with a bundle of blankets in his arms and his face covered in tears and snot was a faun. Pink eyes, red rimmed and glistening, stared at him as hiccupped sobs made his shoulders jump. Shooting up from a bed of white, fluffy locks were two elegant antlers that were neatly trimmed down to what he guessed was a manageable size. And coming from the sides of his head were elongated ears, similar to elven ears, but with small tufts of silky white hair at the ends. Mink couldn’t say much towards how he was built - the heap of blankets that he was clutching to his chest made it hard to see anything aside from his legs and head. 

Blinking slowly, Mink wondered for a moment if the exhaustion was causing him to hallucinate. Fauns were not seen in this part of the land, it was not a rare or uncommon occurrence – it just didn’t happen. They were found only in the North, where the land was untouched and unsoiled. As far as he knew, they didn’t leave the North for anything - there was too big a risk of them being captured and killed for their horns. One showing up in his shop which was, admittedly, found in a rather small town but was several thousand miles from the North seemed next to impossible. 

“Um!” the faun in front of him spoke up, startling him out of his thoughts, “You are Mink, correct? The legendary spell-spinner?”

Flinching at little at such a name and wondering how on earth who had burdened him with such a title, Mink crossed his arms over his chest before leaning back and settling a steady gaze on the rare sight before him, “I make no claim to that title but I am Mink. And who are you, faun?”

“My name is Clear. I need your help, please!”

“With?”

The faun named Clear moved forward and gingerly held out the bundle of blankets. Curiously, Mink stepped forward to gently move apart the many folds of fabric. 

He had not thought any more surprises could possibly await him that day but it seemed as though the fates were determined on proving him wrong. 

Bundled up in the folds was an egg but not just any kind of egg. 

“A dragon’s egg.” Mink breathed, hardly able to believe his eyes. He had never seen one in real life but had seen enough illustrations to recognize the patterns - swirls of blue, red, purple and black across a pearly shell with a sheen that was unnatural. It was large; about the size of a newborn infant. And from it was an energy that hummed - an electric, deep hum that his ears could barely pick up. 

A faun was one thing. It was a rare occurrence but in no way impossible. What he was seeing in front of him, on the other hand, was impossible. The last dragon was killed over three hundred years ago and even to this day, there were extensive hunting parties put together by the Bureau of Protection of those Magical and Not to track down any leads, no matter how small or strange, that even hinted at their return. Dragons no longer existed and there were many who made sure that it stayed that way.

Taking a step back, he looked up at the faun and asked softly, “Where did you find this?”

“In the North.” Tears began to fall again from his pink eyes and the delicate lips, pursued and frowning, began to tremble. “The mother was trying to protect her eggs but a man with a sparrow emblem on his shield fatally wounded her and destroyed all the eggs,” he brought the egg close to his chest and looked down at it as his shoulders hitched with a soft sob, “save for this one.”

His head shot up to fix a piercing gaze on Mink, “I heard the mother’s cries and rushed to her aide but it was too late by the time I got there. She begged of me - save this one egg, save this one child. It was her last wish but I need help. The egg has been damaged - there is a constant stream of magic pouring out of the crack. I’ve managed to slow it but I don’t know if the baby inside is alive or will survive. Please!” the faun stepped forward, his head bowing and his eyes begging, “please help me! They say that you are the best spell-spinner in all of Mido and that you turn away no one who needs help so please! Please help me.”

The faun fell quiet as soft sobs wracked his frame. Mink stood silently, looking down at him as he tried to put together everything he had just heard. If he were to think about it, it actually wasn’t that hard to believe that there had been a dragon in the North - the Bureau of Protection didn’t have much of a presence there and many didn’t dare venture into those lands as they were wild and untamed - while the rest of the world had moved forward, the North was still like it had always been. It wasn’t that much of a long shot to imagine a dragon seeking refuge there. 

It was the rest that he was having a hard time swallowing. A man with a sparrow emblem on his shield taking out the dragon by himself? The faun had heard her cries and had spoken to the dragon? Were dragons even able to speak? He had never personally met one but all the books and tales painted them as nothing more than vicious beasts that would roast you as soon as they set eyes on you. And what was this about him being the best spell-spinner in all of Mido? Last he checked, he was relatively unknown - just a simple man in a simple town with a simple shop. He supposed it had something to do with that heinous title but where on earth had that come from?

No, that didn’t matter right now. What did matter was the issue in front of him. It was true - he did his best not to turn away anyway as it was his believe that everyone, no matter how good or bad, deserved helped in some way or form but this....this was something entirely different. 

He wasn’t exactly sure what the punishment for helping a dragon, regardless of whether it was hatched or not, was but he was certain that it wasn’t pleasant. At best, he could lose his license to practice magic and with that, his entire livelihood would be gone as would be the respect of the community and, at worst, it could possibly mean banishment or execution. He was reasonably sure he could hide his involvement in something like this fairly easily but there was always the risk of being caught and in this case, he didn’t see how he or anyone could possibly benefit from this. Not to mention, he couldn’t be sure if the faun was even telling the truth. Who was to say that he had actually come across the egg in such a manner? Who was to say that he wasn’t trying to hatch it for his own selfish reasons? No, the risks and danger was too immense for him to overlook. 

“I’m sorry but I cannot help you.” He regretted having to turn him away but this was something he could not become involved with. 

The faun’s head shot up and the look in his eyes - one of steadily building shock and despair - was enough to almost bowl Mink over. Unused to someone being able to sway him so easily with just a look, Mink gave his head a mental shake before returning the faun’s gaze with a calm, collected one. 

“I will not inform the Bureau of this but that is all I can do for you. I’m sorry. Please leave.”

Mink began to turn around when a hand suddenly gripped his elbow. Looking over his shoulder, he half expected the faun’s face to be contorted in anger but was instead greeted with an expression of fear, desperation and exhaustion. 

“Do not do this. Do not abandon this child like this. They deserve a chance, just like any other. No one else is capable of helping him - no one but you! I know this so please, help me.” The grip on Mink’s arm slackened as the faun hung his head and sobbed miserably, his other arm hugging the bundle to his chest. “Please,” he whimpered, his voice soft and drenched with despair, “I beg of you. Please.”

It was not that Mink was cold or unfeeling. Rather, it was more than that weeping acts never fooled or got to him. He could remain calm and stoic even if the face of the most violently sobbing individual and handle the situation without incident or conflict. Rarely was it that he was perturbed by crying or distress, regardless as to whether it was faked or real. 

But...looking down at the shaking, sobbing faun with his previous words ringing inside of his head, Mink felt something inside him move. He wasn’t sure if it was pity or duty or something deeper, stronger that was pulling at him but whatever it was, it was very hard to ignore. It unnerved him but despite knowing how dangerous and stupidly reckless it would be for him to even consider helping the faun, he was still starting to actually consider it. 

Not because he had any inkling of curiosity towards the dragon - it was a heartless beast, no matter what the faun claimed. No, it wasn’t that. It was the faun. Was it pity, he wondered idly to himself as he watched the white haired man in front of him slowly calm himself down. He didn’t think so - he could sympathize with the faun’s situation but pity him, he could not. 

What was it then? Why was it, the longer the faun stood before him, shaking and hiccuping with sobs, the more and more Mink found himself incapable of turning him away?

Sighing, he turned back to the faun and asked, “What exactly do you want from me?”

The faun sniffed before lifting his head. Brushing away the tears on his cheek in a delicate movement with long, slender fingers, the faun breathed in deep before saying in a cracked voice, “To help this child live, that is all. To seal the crack, to fix the damages and ensure that they can live inside of the egg and hatch safely.”

Mink crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his head and fixed a steady gaze on the faun, “And after that?”

“I will take them back to the North. It is up to you whether you believe me or not but the child is one of a smaller breed which cannot fly long distances. The females are the only ones able to breathe fire but given the size and shape of the egg, I believe this child to be male. That, however, is going on an assumption rather than proven fact. Regardless, I can promise you that it poses no danger to your world.”

Mink blinked slowly before asking, “How much longer until they hatch?”

The faun shook his head, “I do not know. As I said, a significant amount of magic, which is essential for their growth inside of the egg, has been lost. I’ve stemmed the flow as best I can but I do not know how that has affected them. The only thing I can say that it will be a while before they hatch - at least a few months.”

A long moment of silence fell between as Mink looked down into those pink, red-rimmed eyes. He should turn him away. Nothing good would come out of this if he actually took on this request. It would mean nothing but trouble for him, regardless of whether the Bureau found out or not because the egg wasn’t the most worrying aspect of all this. 

The faun was. 

People did not unnerve him - they did not upset or shake him up. He was in control of himself and when he decided to do or not to do something, he stuck with it unless circumstances said otherwise but that was a very rare occasion and what he usually stuck with was always the better and best choice. He thought out everything carefully, studied all the options and analyzed all the outcomes. He was not one to be rushed or forced into a decision by anyone. He was in control. 

The faun disrupted all of that and had thrown him into disarray with such ease that Mink half thought that it was intentional - that some kind of spell had been cast before he had come in from the back and that was what was throwing him off. However, that was impossible. His shop had glyphs embedded into the walls and floors which prevented mind altering spells from being cast. They were strong, powerful glyphs and he was fairly certain not even a faun’s magic, something that was largely unaccounted for, could get past them.

Besides...he didn’t know how but he could just tell that the faun was being honest, sincere - that he had come to him with nothing more than a begging plea for help. And that disrupted him even more.

Just words and swollen, teary eyes - that was all the faun had used against him and it was making him tumble. If Mink were being entirely honest, it was a bit....terrifying. 

He should tell him to leave. No, he should make him leave. Take him by the arm, drag him outside, tell him to go away before slamming the door, locking it and retiring upstairs. He had work to do. There was stock that needed to be replenished. There were glyphs and spells and potions that he needed to start working on. He should not be standing here, even considering taking on this request. It was stupid. It was beyond stupid, it was insane. It was dangerous, ludicrous and he knew...he knew he shouldn’t.  
But, the immensely troubling thing was, he knew he shouldn’t but he was going to anyways. 

“I will fix the egg and nothing more.” The words were out before he could stop them and they didn’t sound nearly as harsh as he intended. He expected to immediately regret saying such a thing but it almost felt like a relief to say them.

The faun’s head shot up. His pinks eyes went wide as a look of cautious hope began to flood his face. And in that moment, to Mink’s utter surprise, he was finding the faun before him...beautiful. 

Viciously shaking away that notion, (beautiful? The faun who was shaking him up so badly? Who was throwing everything into disarray? What kind of nonsense was that?) he instead focused a cold, hard stare on the faun and said firmly, “Then, you will leave. And I will hear nothing more from you.”

He had expected solemnness - for the faun to grow serious and nod in a stoic manner. What he got instead was a brilliant, vibrant, beautiful smile spreading ear to ear across the faun’s face, happiness and relief filling his eyes as he rushed forward suddenly, pushing the bundle of blankets into Mink’s arms and taking one of Mink’s large hands into his own. 

Squeezing his hand gently, the faun cried, “Thank you! Thank you so much!” Tears once again began rolling down his cheeks but it seemed these were from joy rather than sadness. He looked up at Mink with a big, relieved smile and, to Mink’s discontent, his heart started to beat a bit faster than normal and he could feel something pleasantly warm brewing in his chest as he looked down into those shining eyes, “I promise that once the egg is healed, I will go and you will never see me again! So please! Please save this child!”

The faun once again bowed his head as he presented the bundle to Mink. Frowning at his own reaction and wondering what on earth was the matter with him; Mink turned his attention to the egg. 

Just as the faun had said, there was a worrying crack that ran down the entire length. There was some sort of spell that he didn’t recognize covering the egg but he supposed that was just the flow the stem of magic slipping out through the crack. The flow was slow but it was also alarmingly steady. 

Gingerly, he pulled his hand away from the faun’s grasp and picked up the egg and held it in his hands. It was heavier than he had thought it would be. Despite the crack, it felt sturdy and strong. 

“It must have taken quite a blow to crack this.” He murmured, mostly to himself. 

“I did not see the man in action,” the faun responded, taking a step back and reaching up to set the tips of his fingers against the egg, “nor did the mother say much about him so I cannot say much about him. But, if he was able to do this, he must be terrifying strong.”

Mink hummed softly before running his fingertips very carefully along the crack. There was still a substantial amount of magic inside of the egg and faintly, ever so faintly, he could detect the heartbeat of the beast growing inside. 

“They’re still alive.” He informed the faun, who immediately let out a sigh of relief and smiled once more. 

Mink looked over the egg for a moment more before announcing, “I can fix it but it will take a few days. The damage,” he paused, furrowing his brows, “it wasn’t caused by an ordinary weapon. The man who did this had an enchanted blade though I cannot tell what sort of magic he used. Something old...something lost...but other than that, I cannot say. But whatever it was, it is going to make it difficult to repair the shell.”

“But you can do it?” The faun asked, stepping close once again and setting one of his hands atop Mink’s. Not as a sign of intimation but more as though he was seeking out reassurance. Mink looked down into those hopeful eyes and nodded, “Yes, I believe I can.”

“Then,” the faun replied, his smile small and soft and radiant, “I shall leave it to you.”

Mink nodded before stepping away. The faun’s skin had been smooth and soft against his own. It had felt good - far more so than Mink would ever admit.

“And what of you?” he asked.

“Huh?” the faun’s ears twitched as he tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“What are you going to do? I said a few days but it might be a week or more. Do you have anywhere to stay?”

The startled expression that appeared on his face followed by the faun looking down at his feet as heat rose to his cheeks told Mink that he didn’t. Damn fool must have rushed into town without a thought in desperation to find him. It was amazing that he hadn’t been spotted by the townsfolk.

Sighing softly, Mink said, “Upstairs, there’s a guest bedroom. You can use that until I’m done. However,” Mink rounded on the faun just as he was opening his mouth with a happy expression on his face, “you will hide those ears and antlers and whatever else could give anyone an inkling of what you are.”

To his surprise, the faun smiled happily and replied, “Yes! I will! Thank you so much!”

Something was wrong with him. Something was very, very wrong with him. Why was he doing this? Why was he offering him somewhere to stay? Why was he helping him? Why did his smile make his chest grow warm and send his thoughts scattering? Why did he feel like that smile, that voice, those eyes could make him doing anything? 

“Um, spell-spinner?”

“Mink.”

The faun paused before smiling shyly, “I’m fairly efficient at potion making and glyphs so if you need any assistance, I would be more than happy to help!”

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice to accept that offer. There was no way he could finish everything himself, especially with the added on task of fixing the egg. Sighing, he nodded and said, “Fine. Go upstairs then turn left - you’ll find a workshop. There’s a cabinet on the far end. Start putting together the ingredients needed to make potions for ill stomachs, damp lungs, and pains.”

“Yes! I will!” With a smile, the faun hurried off upstairs. 

Standing in the now quiet shop, Mink looked down at the dragon’s egg. 

A faun, whose kind hadn’t been seen outside of the North for nearly seven decades, appearing out of nowhere in his shop with the ability to sway him into doing something so reckless, so foolish like he was nothing more than a blade of grass going up against a howling wind. 

A man with a sparrow emblem on his shield and a weapon enchanted with an old, forgotten magic slaying a mighty dragon by himself and destroying all the eggs before vanishing. 

And in his hands, was what could be the last dragon egg in existence. Cracked, leaking magic but still containing a living, growing dragon that he was going to help fix. 

...this day had turned out very, very strangely.


End file.
